


Puking Rainbows

by SerenePhenix



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Diarrhea, Fever, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Poisoning, Sickfic, Team as Family, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 16:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11294124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenePhenix/pseuds/SerenePhenix
Summary: "His best friend’s voice is shrill with panic and Lance can dimly guess why: vomit is not supposed to be red or dotted with black grains like coffee grounds. "-OR: Lance and Keith end up in a horrible situation during a mission gone wrong. Getting poisoned is just the cherry on top.





	Puking Rainbows

**Author's Note:**

> Do I know self-restraint? Nooooooooooooooooo…
> 
> based on this prompt: http://serenephenix.tumblr.com/post/161892081260/illesty-sweetmisschesire-sent-me-this-and-i

Lance spit out the tar-black sludge, retching to no avail when he still felt some of it slide down his throat. He hacked and spit but the vile taste of it burned on his tongue and settled heavily in his stomach.

He quickly gave up, deciding it was less urgent than getting Keith out of Red. Out of the lake he had crashed in after that Ion canon hit him point on, the Lion’s eyes becoming dull and grey as she shut down and hurtled down towards the planet below.

He had followed, steering the pod to the best of his abilities but the hard reality was that these stupid machines were not built for space battles, were not built to withstand the fire of five fighters, were not meant to work on only one fully functional engine.

Even now, Lance was kind of is surprised that he managed to crash the pod in such a manner that he did not end up as bloodied scrap metal.

He readjusted his helmet, fumbling with the flips coated with slimy liquid and sealing the damn thing shut. It should have been the first thing to do upon wedging through the jammed pod doors but his mind had been elsewhere.

The sound emitting from under his foot was absolutely disgusting, a sloshing and sucking that made him appreciate his armor that let nothing through. It was hard even lifting his feet and did not become better when he was submerged to his waist.

“Eeeewww. This stinks.” His finger pressed onto the button for the private comms. “Keith, buddy, you in there?”

As if his words had summoned him, the hatch at the top of Red’s cockpit opened but before he could come up with any kind of joke, he watched with mounting horror as Keith’s whole frame shuddered before going slack and lastly came tumbling down to land on the small lake’s surface with a splash.

From where Lance stood it was hard to tell if he was moving, or even breathing.

“Keith!”

He struggled harder against the heavy liquid, hurrying over to his team mate.

Keith snatched his hand the moment their fingers brushed and used Lance to heave himself up, groaning and collapsing against him. He had never seen Keith’s face this contorted in pain.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” his own voice was shrill with worry as Keith spasmed violently in his grip.

“Cut up my leg.” Keith hissed, voice strained. His eyes screwed shut for a moment, his heavy breaths sounding so much louder and more alarming through his mic. After a few seconds he seemed to have grounded himself, making a concentrated effort to get his arm over Lance’s offered shoulders.

Lance adjusted his grip around Keith’s wrist and torso when he started to slip. He cast his friend a worried look, already setting a slow pace to get to the shore up ahead.

“How the hell did you manage that?”

Because there really was nothing in their cockpits that could slice open muscle. Unless the blast had been more damaging than he had initially thought, and maybe dislodged something from the console. It made a spike of worry lance through him at the thought that one of the Lions was this badly damaged.

“No, my blade.” Keith admitted, not looking Lance in the eye.

He felt like he had to shout in outrage on their leader’s behalf.

“The hell! You stored it inside the suit again, didn’t you!”

He was there when Shiro had held the lecture. He firmly agreed as well.

“So what!” Keith shot back heatedly, but still refused to meet Lance’s eyes “Doesn’t matter. Too late now anyway.”

“Yeah.”

-

The wound was just as bad as Lance had feared: a long, deep, and painful-looking gash that went down the length of Keith’s right calf. The amount of blood soaking the suit and Lance’s hand when he pressed it to the wound was distressing and made worse by Keith’s hiss at the light, inspecting touches.

“Okay,” Lance took a deep breath to hold onto whatever calm he could muster “I will have to bandage this.”

Keith, doubled over and sitting on a rock, only remained hunched over. He had gone worryingly pale in the relatively short amount of time it had taken them to get onto dry land. If Lance had to guess, he’d say he was going into shock.

He weighed his options, trying to contact the team but as he had expected there was no response incoming. Just loud static greeting his ear.

Coran had mentioned something of the likes happening – the atmosphere of the planet was a little crazy like that. The overhung sky revealed nothing of the battle probably raging just above, clouds too thick and dark for even the lasers to be visible.

He hoped the others were okay.

His eyes found the prone form of the lion again before zeroing in on Keith.

It was a shitty option but the only one they had.

With purposeful strides he went and picked up a sturdy looking branch, returning to Keith’s side immediately, and started ripping at the sleeve of his suit.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Lance did not allow Keith to distract him as he unclasped the protective pads and shells of the Paladin suit.

“Can you activate your bayard?”

He looked back at his team mate when the latter failed to respond, only to be met with complete puzzlement.

“Your bayard. I need it.” He insisted, getting frustrated when Keith still failed to answer.

Slowly the young man’s hand began to hover over the indicator lights of his left thigh, the sword instantly materializing in his hand.

By now, Lance had managed to wiggle his arm out of the sleeve, the appendage pressed into his side uncomfortably as he knelt down next to the black haired teen.

Keith only stared at him.

“Okay, now cut it off.” He wiggled his shoulder, the sleeve dangling and swinging from the motion.

He could watch Keith’s expression growing more dubious by the second.

“What?”

“To staunch the bleeding!” he finally bit out, frustrated the beginnings of a headache not helping in keeping his temper in check “You’ll need to make sure that blood stays where it’s supposed to be!”

“Okay, fine!” Keith’s own voice was colored with frustration as he positioned himself, taking his other hand to hold out the fabric before he swung down the blade. There was not even a sound of fabric tearing and Lance suddenly realized how damn sharp that blade must be.

He’d pass Shiro a memo that he was not going to train with Keith if that sword was involved. Once they got back that is.

He lost no time in winding the sleeve around Keith’s leg, knotting it up and inserting the stick he had collected earlier. He looked up at Keith.

“Sorry, this might hurt.” and he swiftly rotated the twig, the cloth twisting up and cutting into the flesh just above the gash.

Lance expected the shout of surprise and pain, and was ready to swat away the hand once it came.

“What the fuck are you doing!”

Keith was breathing harshly through his nose, groaning as Lance twisted one last time. He did not let go of the twig for a while longer, waiting until Keith had rode out his wave of pain.

“Listen” he said and made sure Keith was looking straight at him “I’ll will go back to Red and get the medical kit. You will stay here and keep this “his eyes flitted to his little construction “tight. I’ll kick your ass if you die from blood loss.”

Keith breathed in through his nose again, deep and long, before nodding and taking over. The prominent shake in his hand had Lance all the more worried.

He stood up and was not prepared for the sudden vertigo that had him stumbling a few steps.

“Woah, you okay?”

Lance nodded, copying Keith by breathing through his nose, willing away the darkness crawling in on him at the corners of his eyes.

“Just peachy. Just got up too fast.”

That had to be it. Nothing too serious probably.

-

He was glad his boosters still worked. He was glad he found the emergency kit. He was relieved to find the knife but the blood coating it had made Lance swallow down a sudden lump in his throat.

He also was glad that the coms were working on ground, allowing him to talk to Keith the whole time he was out of sight even if what he got in response were just grunts and groans of affirmation. But at least he still knew the Red Paladin was still alive.

It was the only thing he could rejoice about, really, because any word other than ‘alive’ to describe Keith’s current state would be a huge stretch.

“You still with me, samurai?”

The tremor in his voice was making it almost impossible to keep up the light-hearted tone.

Keith gave a nod that Lance more felt than saw from where he was hanging off of him, limp and heavy and with his feet dragging so much by now that it made Lance stumble every few steps.

Ever since they had had to run from those awful scuttling lizard-monsters that had started appearing from all around the lakeside, Keith had been deteriorating. It made the panic that had been threatening Lance from the moment they had ended up on this planet to actually take ahold of his mind.

He had to keep a clear head though, if not for his own sake then for Keith’s.

Still, the trek and especially the short scuffle they had had when Keith had to be dragged away from the lake and his prone Lion had sapped more energy from both of them than Lance would have expected.

His suit must have been damaged at some point as well, because it was not regulating the temperature right. He could feel sweat slicking his neck and the remaining fabric of his suit getting soaked, sticking to him uncomfortably.

But it did not explain the headache which had taken permanent residence just between his eyes, nor the sudden stabs of pain coming from his stomach or the ache from pretty much every muscle.

Still, he soldiered on, complaining about the heat and the situation, trying hard to annoy his companion so that he might get something more substantial out of him than just grunts.

Yet Keith remained frighteningly impassive, dragging his feet, not looking up.

Lance took one look around, made sure the lizards were gone and settled Keith down at the base of a tree.

He could feel his own blood rush down to the sole of his feet.

Keith’s skin was so pale Lance could have mistaken him for a ghost from one of those creepy horror-movies.

He was quick to take off Keith’s helmet, his rival too weak or out of it to even fight back.

“Keith.”

He pressed his fingers to the teen’s pulse point, forcing himself to stay calm even when the ragged and fast breaths agitating his hand put his heart into overdrive with fear. He was not sure what he was expecting, couldn’t even remember how a normal pulse should feel like under his fingertips, put the frenzied hammering surely could not be good.

He wanted to keep calm and strong like Shiro did in these situations but he was pretty sure his own fear and helplessness was evident when his eyes met Keith’s half-lidded ones. Despite his state, he seemed lucid enough to understand the severity of the situation.

As they remained locked in this position for a few more seconds Keith suddenly jerked once as if hiccupping and then he was toppling to the side, throwing up.

Lance’s hands shot out to steady him, probably the only thing keeping him from face-planting into the disgusting puddle of sick mixed with mud.

“Keith, what’s going on?”

Was it the wound? Did it get infected despite Lance’s efforts to clean it out with that Altean antiseptic that stung like hell and smelled like some overstocked cosmetic store? Had Keith maybe hit his head during impact? Was it some bug?

He did not know and he could not rule any of these possibilities out until Keith stopped regurgitating his breakfast, so he could tell him what exactly it was that was wrong.

It took a few minutes, Keith sometimes stopping long enough to take breath before dry-heaving again, pained whimpers and croaks escaping him and Lance babbling nonsensical stuff and encouragements in an effort to calm both of them down.

When it was over, Keith was wrung out and Lance only just managed to adjust his grip to hold up the limp teen, maneuvering him to sit away from the stinking mess.  
There was no color left in his face. The fact that his glassy eyes could not focus, even less remain open, made Lance’s blood go cold.

He felt bad for the slap, echoing so loudly in this otherwise quiet forest, but panic was spurring Lance into action.

“Oh no, you stay awake. I am not going to explain to the team how you died of blood loss on my watch!”

He knew his voice was bordering on hysterical.

It had little to no effect on Keith though, whatever it was that was ailing him having progressed too far him to fight back against anymore.

Before he could decide on anything else to do, Keith folded in on himself one more time, arms winding around his midriff as he made a noise of utter pain and distress, completely caving in on himself.

“It hurts…” he whispered hoarsely as Lance shook him, asked what was happening to him.

But ultimately, Lance could only watch in horror as Keith’s eyes rolled back into his head.

-

His legs were shaking horribly, his shoulders and arms burning from the task of holding onto Keith’s complete dead-weight, making sure that the mullet did not topple off of him because Lance had stumbled over a damned branch.

He yelped as, again, one of Keith’s arms slid off his shoulder, his whole side following suite and unbalancing him.

Lance wanted to scream in frustration but he lacked the breath necessary for that task. All of his energy went into slinging that damn arm back where it should have stayed all the other dozen times.

His own panting was growing far too loud with every step he took, with every lift of limbs that got stuck in the giving and sticky ground.

He wanted to cry both from exhaustion and from the pain. Before, he had been able to push it back, ignore it and keep going. But it had mounted, steadily increasing and spreading. He felt like dying.

He ground to a halt when his mouth suddenly flooded with saliva, with taste as if he had swallowed pennies and he just had enough time and care to put Keith down on his uninjured side before stumbling a few feet away.

The landing was anything but graceful or gentle, his knees protesting as he jerked forward to empty himself just like Keith had done earlier.  
It was as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

The world spun as Lance landed on his side, remaining there as still as possible, hoping that it might help lessen the pain that still twisted his insides but it persisted, shifting and travelling in ways inside of him that had dread shooting through Lance’s heart.

“Oh God, please no…”

He remembered that one time he had gotten salmonella poisoning, remembered what it had felt like.

Remembered how he had barely made it out the bathroom during those days.

This felt exactly the same.

Frustration and exhaustion drove tears to his eyes, as he measured his breaths and waited.

“No, please, no. Now’s _not_ the time.”

Whatever god was listening right now obviously did not care.

With speed he would not have dared himself capable of, Lance somehow managed to pick himself up and dive for the row of small trees and bushes, hands jerkily grabbing for the latches of his armor, trying to get out of the suit before it was too late.

He barely made it.

It was disgusting, and humiliating, and it hurt. What came out was nothing but liquid, burning and sharp.

As fast as it came on, it was over but it left him shaky and shuddering, leaning against one of the trees as he tried to pull himself together, tried hard to ignore all of the aches, long-persisting and new ones.

He sobbed as he tried putting the armor back on, inflamed skin punishing him for every movement.

When he had tapped into his last reserves, fully ready to go on, and emerged from behind the trees unsteadily, he had his bayard out the second he saw the greenish creatures squatting around Keith.

He ignored how the world tilted and swayed ominously as he tried to get a good foothold in the mud.

“Get away from him!”

The aliens raised their heads, and what Lance saw reminded him of blowflies back on Earth – if suddenly they were the size of ten-year-olds, wingless and sporting dirty-brown tunics.

Facetted eyes zeroed in on him, pincers of sorts clicking urgently but there was nothing aggressive about the way they held themselves; only caution and curiosity.

It could have been gut-instinct or simply overall weakness making him lower his arm but Lance wanted to believe that it was just him being trusting towards strangers in general.

Or maybe he was just that desperate for any potential help.

“Please,” he said, the almost whine it devolved into making him clear his throat “my team mate’s hurt. We’re part of Voltron.”

By now he had come to know that when associating himself with the warrior of legend there were potential three reactions he could expect, ranging from reverence to cautiousness to downright hostility.

Throwing the information out like this, without knowing anything about the inhabitants of this planet was a dangerous gamble, but one Lance was ready to take at this point.

More clicking, faster and more urgent. Lance wished he could pretend he knew what was going on.

They stopped talking amongst themselves, two of the four lifting up Keith who did not even stir although his wound had to be bothering him. The other two creatures approached Lance offering their help but Lance refused, if only because the size difference and his own pride wouldn’t allow it.

That did not stop one of the aliens to grab onto his hand, as though to make sure he did not lose his way. Which admittedly was a good idea maybe. Lance could barely walk in a straight line at this point.

-

“Lance!”

Lance was not prepared for the alarmed shout coming from Shiro as they entered what equated a city most probably, or a very large settlement at least.

The hug was more of a body-slam and lasted far too short for Lance to appreciate it before his leader withdrew, worry evident in his eyes.

“Are you alright? What happened? We tried to contact both of you for hours but got no response.”

The barrage of questions was dizzying.

Shiro’s grey eyes briefly searched the immediate area, his expression growing more alarmed.

“Where is Keith?”

Lance opened his mouth to reply when there came another shout from behind them, Lance glancing back over his shoulder to see Pidge and Hunk come running, their eyes on the prone form of the Red Paladin still being carried by the small aliens.

Lance stumbled as Shiro’s arm steered him back towards his teammates. The moment the man let go to take a look at Keith, Hunk came to envelop Lance in a painful hug that did not help the lingering nausea _at all._

“Lance, buddy, are you okay?” Lance gets no chance to reply, Hunk simply hugging him tighter. “We were so worried! Please never do this ever again!”

Everything is too much too soon. Lance feels suffocated.

There is a commotion going on and soon enough Keith disappears into one of the houses, Pidge not far behind, holding a device in hand they only ever take out when they encounter an alien species that cannot communicate with them through speech.

Lance just lets Hunk keep him upright, the only thing keeping him standing to be honest.

“What happened to you two?”

Lance lets his head loll to the side, the visor of his helmet clacking against Hunk’s shoulder guard. He tiredly looks into his friend’s anxious face, giving a shrug.

“Red crashed into a lake and Keith stabbed himself in the leg with his dagger.”

Hunk’s face is the perfect representation of ‘fucking done’.

“Yep, I agree.”

Still, brown eyes search his face a moment later.

“Are you okay? You look awful.”

“I just want to be done and over with this mission.”

Hunk gives him a nod just as Shiro reaches them, ready to hear about what happened, getting about the same answers as Hunk. It seems to be enough right now.

“The healers are now taking care of Keith.”

The relief is palpable and the grateful smile on his face makes Lance proud and fuzzy, even if it is smothered by exhaustion.

“Do you think you can take us back to Red? I do not wish to leave any of the Lions unguarded when there still might be Galra around and especially not when they can’t put up a barrier.”

Lance wants to refuse. Wants to lie down and cry. Who cares if the others think of him as weak or bratty?

He’s done his part, someone let him rest please.

But the look on Keith’s face as he dragged him away from Red, the worry and the fear… his mind won’t allow him to stop thinking about it.

“Fine.”

It’s quiet and unenthusiastic but Shiro takes it at face value, probably understanding better than anyone where Lance is coming from.

“Thank you, Lance. I promise you’ll get to rest once we’re back at the Castle. You really did an amazing job out there.”

It draws the ghost of a smile out of him as he struggles to put one foot in front of the other.

-

They are inside Black and no matter how smoothly his leader is trying to fly, the vertigo won’t let itself be ignored. Or the crippling pain that has Lance slowly starting to slide down the wall.

Hunk is shaking him, a parody of what Lance did to Keith when he fainted and it’s about just as effective.

Without warning, the queasiness is back and Lance weakly pushes at Hunk to have him out of the splatter zone.

His best friend’s voice is shrill with panic and Lance can dimly guess why: vomit is not supposed to be red or dotted with black grains like coffee grounds.

He is thankful when he loses consciousness, the darkness a promise of no longer having to deal with the pain and the uncomfortable heat.

-

Whatever it is that’s weighing Lance down, it’s incredibly soft and silky. He likes the feeling of it, burying the bottom half of his face further into it, breathing in the crispy cleanness of freshly washed sheets and relaxes.

He stills when he tries to draw his hands to his chin, only to be met with resistance in the form of a hand loosely holding onto his.

His eyes are sticky and very uncooperative but he gets them to open anyway.

He blinks at the bright lights he associates with the Castle’s interior and let’s his gaze roam. He wonders how he ended up here because he knows that he definitely was not in the Castle last he remembered.

His vision is a little blurry but he does recognize Keith, Pidge and Hunk once he sees them, their torsos spread over the side of his bed, all of them sound asleep. He is also surprised to find that it is actually not Hunk holding onto him but his rival.

He stares at their linked hands and misses the moment his door hisses open to admit Shiro and Coran. The second they see him awake, Lance can _feel_ the worry bleed out of them.

They approach quietly, making sure not to disturb the other Paladins.

Coran’s eyes are lined with dark circles – testament to the effort he must have put into nursing Lance back to health. They do not appreciate the man nearly enough for all the work he does for them.

“Good morning, Lance.” the greeting is hushed but cheerful, maybe a bit more for his own sake than anyone else’s. Lance still finds his lips twitching into a weak smile.

“Mornin’.” He only manages to mouth it but that already seems to be enough for both men.

Shiro’s smile is painful to look at with the obvious guilt making it look like a chore.

“Hey, kiddo. How you holding up?”

Lance closes his eyes a moment, trying to get a feeling for his body.

“Tired.”

He is surprised at how rough he sounds.

“Just tired?” Coran asks, his eyes scanning him as though he could detect any and all lies. Lance would not put it past his list of abilities.

“Mostly.”

“And no aches or pains?”

Lance gives a minute shake of his head, sinking deeper into his cushions. He can already feel himself drift off but is kept from sweet, sweet slumber by Shiro’s voice.

It’s the tone that gives him the push he needs to stay awake.

“Wha-?” he mumbles, not having caught onto what exactly it was that Shiro had said.

He notices how Coran is giving them privacy, having turned away and measuring some liquid into a cup. Shiro is looking directly at him, with the grimness of someone ready to take punishment and Lance finds that it does not suit him at all.

“I’m sorry I did not realize sooner that something was wrong with you.”

Lance raises an eyebrow questioningly and Shiro understands.

“The lake you fell into is actually one of the most poisonous water bodies in the area. There is a good amount of a metal in it that can be compared to arsenic. That’s what made Keith sick and you as well.”

Okay, that’s something Lance gets. What he does not get is the torn expression Shiro’s sporting, the nervous wringing of his hands and the way he is now starting to avoid his eyes.

It is very untypical of him.

“The Ijrantuans, the aliens that saved you, you know?” Lance gives a nod “They have an antidote that works fast under the right circumstances, when the poisoning has not yet had time to damage the inner organs.”

Ahhhhh… Lance suddenly remembers how he accidentally swallowed some of that gross water.

Shiro takes a moment longer to gather his thoughts and Lance sees Coran according him all the time he needs.

“You were very sick and it might take you a while longer to completely recover. I’m sorry, I should have made sure you were both alright instead of jumping to conclusions based on states of awareness.”

Lance thinks it’s the choice of words that gets him to snort and he has to fight hard against the urge to let out a laugh at Shiro’s completely incredulous look.

“It’s okay.” he finally soothes. There’s no way he could be angry at Shiro. Not when he possibly couldn’t have known.

It takes Shiro a while to recover but when he does, he gently ruffles Lance’s hair. Lance relishes in the sensation, something that reminds him so, so much of his family back home.

Coran is quick to reclaim his place, surprisingly nimble for his age, and lifts Lance’s head while bringing the cup he’s filled earlier Lance’s mouth.

“This is a remedy to help reduce the inflammation to your alimentary canal.” There is something apologetic and sheepish in his smile as he withdraws “I am afraid that it will still be a while until you can stomach anything but broth.”

Now, Lance can’t help the chuckle and it surprises him that still, the others are sleeping through this. He looks up at Coran through the narrowing slits of his drooping eyes.

“Lucky me, I guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me on my tumblr!  
> http://serenephenix.tumblr.com/
> 
> Dear Ladies and Gentlemen and everyone in-between! Please feast your eyes on this gorgeous fanart by the amazing   
> "space-ivy" on tumblr: https://space-ivy.tumblr.com/post/162407819190/this-is-a-scene-from-serenephenix-s-lovely


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